


I'm Blind For Your Love

by RinAngel



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American College AU, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Bang Chan is Awkward, Blind Date, Lee Felix (Stray Kids) is a Sweetheart, M/M, Mistaken Identity, This might make you cringe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23925634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinAngel
Summary: They weren't looking for each other, but that's because they didn't know that they were supposed to be.(Or, Bang Chan learns a little something about starting conversations with coffee shop strangers.)(Or, Felix Lee has never been more psyched for a date to go wrong.)
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Comments: 8
Kudos: 105
Collections: Kpop Writers - Spring Exchange 2020





	I'm Blind For Your Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doctor_depressed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_depressed/gifts).



> A gift for Shooga~ I have to admit, we had never even had a conversation when I first got assigned your prompts, so I was nervous and didn't know what to write ;^; I'm so glad we've gotten to talk and get to know each other a bit better and I look forward to many more conversations :D And now without further ado here is Chan acting an absolute fool.
> 
> EDIT: Due to certain circumstances, and for the comfort of my readers, I've edited the names in this fic, and the character that used to be Woojin is now Minho. The story is effectively the same, but I have left the comments as is, so that's why Woojin's name is there. ^^

“Hey! Glad you made it.”

Minho looked up from his phone quickly at Chan’s voice, flashing him a dazzling smile that caught him off-guard. It was true that Chan didn’t do much socializing in his classes, but he was a little surprised that he didn’t remember a face like _this_ in his world literature lecture. Short, slight, his black hair swept effortlessly out of his face in a way that felt modelesque; the illusion was helped along by his lovely, dark, doe-like eyes and a dusting of freckles. But there was no confusion in his face, and he _was_ sitting just where he said he’d be in his email. _“Since we both missed Monday’s lecture, Dr. Stafford would like us to work together on the analysis project due before break. Should we meet up and pick a novel to present on? I have choir practice at 6:30 tonight, but I’ll be at the on-campus Starbucks til then, I usually get the table right by the window.”_

“Oh, hi! Wow… you look really nice,” Minho complimented, seeming startlingly genuine and leaving Chan completely flustered. Flirting was _not_ part of his expectations; maybe he wasn’t trying to flirt, Chan told himself, maybe he was just awkward. Or maybe Chan really did look so hypnotically wonderful, in his frayed jeans and faded Van Halen shirt, that his classmate was smitten at first sight? _Yeah, right_. He chuckled nervously, but before he could speak again, Minho continued, “She didn’t tell me you were Australian, too? Where did you grow up?”

 _Well, yeah, why should the professor tell you that? Pretty sure Stafford doesn’t even know what I look like, much less my nationality._ Chan wasn’t quite sure whether to be flattered by the attention or unnerved. “I, uh— I was born in Sydney. I spent a lot of time in Seoul growing up, my mom wanted me to go to university there, but Cali sounded more exciting, _and_ my English is better than my Korean. So…”

“Wow, really? I’m from Sydney, too! My family moved here when I was in high school, but I swear, I’m never going to shake the accent. Some Americans _still_ have trouble understanding me.” While Chan sat down and pulled out his five-subject notebook to start work, Minho pulled his wallet from his pocket instead. “Can I buy you a coffee or anything? What do you like?”

“Oh, uh— I can get my own coffee. You really don’t need to do anything like that.”

“I still _want_ to.” Minho smiled, so earnestly and excitedly that Chan once again couldn’t fault him for being so forward. He stood up to see the menu board from their seats, and Chan allowed himself a _quick_ second to look his partner over. If either of the two of them looked great, it was Minho, dressed in a black button-down and skinny jeans, a nice leather jacket draped over the back of his chair. His style read as sexy male fashionista, at perfect odds with a face that looked more angelic the more Chan stared at it. (Seriously, he had a _killer_ profile.)

For just a second, Chan allowed himself to entertain a stupid fantasy: that maybe this was love at first sight, maybe Minho could feel it, too.

“I’m going to take your silence as permission to surprise you. Do you take sugar in your coffee?”

“Uh— yeah…”

“Okay, I’ll be _right_ back.”

“Oh...kay…” Minho wasn’t giving Chan much room to argue, so he had no choice but to laugh quietly and let it happen. Sure, it was strange for a study date, but— _Not a date. What am I thinking? Not a date._ Chan caught himself blushing. Unless Minho was bound and determined to _make_ it a date. In that case, he might just have to oblige him.

When Minho came back, he had a frappuccino in each hand, and he passed one to Chan. “Hope this is okay? It’s kind of warm in here, I feel like, so…”

“Yeah. Tends to happen when you’re blushing, yeah?” Chan wasn’t quite sure if he should point it out, but it was just too obvious, and… well, he had to test the waters somehow, didn’t he?

“That’s because I haven’t dated anyone in ages! I’m out of practice!” Minho replied easily, without any hint of shame of self-consciousness. The casual way that he threw the word out there made Chan feel like he’d been suddenly lit up from the inside. _So am I,_ he wanted desperately to agree. Between full-time classes and part-time work, Chan had been continuously telling himself that he didn’t have time for a boyfriend on top of it all— but maybe for someone like Minho, whose very existence made the air around him feel lighter, Chan could be bothered to _make_ time.

Before he could even think how to articulate any of these thoughts, however, Minho had gone on: “Queer dating is so tricky. You have to go to gay _clubs_ to meet people, and weed out the ones who are just there for hook-ups— I’m not much of a club person anyway, so I find it kind of stressful. I wish it was easier to just, like… walk up to a cute boy on campus and ask him if he wants to grab coffee, you know? This is _way_ more my style.”

“Actually, I’m the same way! I’ve never tried to go to a gay club or anything— my strategy has been waiting for a guy to come to me, actually. Which I didn’t think was going to work until today!” Truthfully, it was out of Chan’s character to say something so bold to a guy he liked, but hell, Minho had started it. The entire ordeal felt like something weird and foreign, but it was exciting, too. He could see himself going on dates with Minho: walking the boardwalk hand-in-hand, trying out trendy restaurants with Instagram-worthy plates, going to local concerts and losing themselves in the music. Yeah, it was going fast, but Chan was half-tempted to throw caution to the wind and hang on for dear life. “So if you’re not a club person, what kind of person are you?”

Minho was an art student, just like Chan— but more accurately, a _digital_ art student, with an avid interest in programming and plans to work in video game development. So he was cute _and_ smart, a double threat. Chan couldn’t help it, he was smitten, and especially charmed when Minho reached across the table and took his hand timidly.  
  
“Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah…” _He even has cute hands._ Chan found himself pouting a little, twining his fingers with Minho's. “But, uh— before we get any more distracted, maybe we should talk a little about what book we’re going to read for class? I printed out the syllabus, here…” He reached for his notebook, pushed aside long ago, and immediately watched the sparkles flicker in Minho's eyes, his brows furrowing a little in confusion.

“What book? For… for what, now?”

Oh, fuck.

“Sorry I’m running late! My lab went over. I swear, one credit hour per semester isn’t worth it.” Chan nearly jumped out of his chair when a backpack plopped down into the chair beside him, and he glanced up into a vaguely familiar face. Bright eyes, shapely lips, a shag of black hair that was beginning to need a trim. “Is this… uh, a friend? Sorry, I just need to steal Chan for a couple of minutes.”

Chan had seen this guy before. Come to think of it, he sat just a few spaces down from him in his world lit class. _Come to think of it,_ this guy was _definitely_ named Minho Lee— the professor had somehow butchered it so badly the first week that Chan was certain he’d never forget it, _but what the fuck, here we are._ He glanced across the table, at the stranger who was still holding his hand. He thought to untangle their fingers, finally, leaving his hand feeling strangely cold.

“So, uh— I guess there’s been a mistake, because I thought you were Minho. But it turns out _this_ is Minho.” The horror of the situation did not take long to dawn on him, and suddenly _Chan_ was the one blushing. “Oh my god. Oh my _god_.”

The man blinked, looking from Chan to Minho, the _real_ Minho, and back again. Then he burst into laughter that stabbed Chan straight through the heart. “Wait, really? That’s so embarrassing— _I_ should be the one apologizing. I’m actually here waiting for a blind date, this guy my sister met at work that she thought I’d really like. Today was supposed to be our first meet-up. His name’s Hyunjin.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. It sure didn’t make Chan feel any less like an idiot, but nonetheless— thinking on his toes, he decided to make light of the situation: “So you racially profiled me? Nice.”

 _"You_ racially profiled me first! You were the first one to say hi, thank you very much!” He grinned, and Chan wanted nothing more than to tease him _back_ , to elicit more of those beautiful smiles and the starlight that naturally shone from his eyes; but then Minho cleared his throat awkwardly beside him, and Chan shook his head, pulling out his wallet quickly and fishing out a five-dollar bill. “This is for the coffee. I really am sorry. This probably all could have been avoided if I hadn’t been too awkward to introduce myself.” While Minho had moved a table over, and was setting up his laptop to work, Chan did a quick scan of the shop— scoping out anyone else who could have been his date’s real date. The place was just about empty, though, which made him feel oddly disheartened on his new friend’s behalf. “I’ll get out of your hair so that your actual date can find you. I hope he gets here soon so I can scope him out and determine if he’s worthy of you!” One last tease, it was just irresistible.

Actual Minho was in a hurry. He didn’t start things off by telling Chan that he looked “really nice”, which was weirdly disheartening after the romance of his unknown suitor, and he didn’t seem particularly interested in making small talk while they were on a time crunch. Chan could only bring himself to half-listen, looking back to the table next door, where the man had gone back to his phone with an unreadable expression. His coffee sat nearly untouched. _I didn’t get his name. Would it have been weird to ask?_

“All right. So are we agreed on _The Alchemist?_ It feels like sort of a cop-out, but I’m on too much of a time crunch to read much else…”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. That’s by… who, now?”

“ _You_ were the one who suggested it.”

“Right, right… sorry, my mind’s in about a thousand different places right now.” Chan snuck another glance at the man sitting across from him now, with his arms folded. Truth be told, this new Minho kind of sucked. _You don’t know the stress of accidentally falling in love with a stranger you weren’t even meant to talk to._ The thought made him shiver a little, losing his focus even further; while Minho started to talk about the syllabus, how long their presentation had to be and what points they had to cover, he was far more aware of his “date” at the next table standing and gathering his things, alone.

“So if you want to take notes on the characters and theme, I’ll try to do some research on—”

“Sorry,” Chan blurted out, egged on by the bell on the door jingling behind him. “I have to— do you mind? I’ll be quick. I’ll be _right_ back.”

Minho looked exasperated. Chan probably should have expected it, and he cringed. “Do what you have to do,” he answered curtly, but even he couldn’t help but look after Chan with thinly veiled curiosity as he turned and booked it out the door, leaving his phone, wallet, and backpack right at the table. Casualties of war.

The stranger’s handsome back was instantly recognizable with the leather jacket across his shoulders. He was walking towards the dorms ( _probably an underclassman, then_ ), and he didn’t pay any heed to Chan hurrying after him until Chan nearly barreled into him and pushed him into the road. Luckily, his sneakers skidded to a clumsy stop in the nick of time, leaving him just inches from his wide-eyed and bewildered crush. Yeah, so chasing him down the street probably wasn’t the smoothest move.

“I’m sorry if I ruined things. I didn’t, did I?”

“You didn’t— no! Of course not!” He laughed despite himself, but only for a moment. “Hyunjin texted me and said he just woke up, he overslept. So he wants to reschedule… or something.”

“Oh, shit. That sucks. I’m really sorry,” Chan bit his lip. Was the relief that he was feeling ethical? He couldn’t help but feel sort of glad that Hyunjin had fucked it up. “Sucks to be him, honestly. I mean, if I knew I was supposed to be meeting you for a date, I’d definitely make sure to wake up on time.”

“He doesn’t know me yet!”

“Oh. Right. But, I mean, if you want to get technical, neither do I.” Chan cracked a smile, inwardly cursing himself. Why did he even try to be smooth? “But I had a really nice time! So as long as you’re not, like, engaged to Hyunjin yet… do you want to have dinner tomorrow night?” Chan blinked, feeling his cheeks suddenly blaze. “Oh, yeah… and I should also probably ask you for your name at this point. I’m Chan.”

The man smiled. _Fuck_ , that smile was starting to get to him, making him feel like his knees had turned to jelly. “I’m Felix,” he introduced himself quietly, looking somewhat flustered himself as he patted his pockets down for his phone. “Wanna give me your number? I’ll text you later. And Hyunjin will just have to understand that you got to me first.”

 _Felix_ . Could he even get any cuter? Taking Felix’s phone, Chan input his number carefully, willing his fingers not to tremble. It was too early to be thinking thoughts like this, but _Chan and Felix_ sounded pretty perfect. _Felix and Chan._ “Absolutely. Hey, just let me know where you want to eat, and it’ll be my treat this time.” Chan passed Felix’s phone back, and when their fingers brushed, it felt like a burst of sparks between them.

“I had a really good time today! Thanks for the surprise date.” Felix nodded cooly, but Chan didn’t miss the way he snuck a peek at his phone, as if to verify to himself that he had his number after all. “Um… don’t get in trouble with Minho, though. Probably shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer, or he’ll get jealous.”

“I’m glad you said that, or I probably would have forgotten about him,” Chan admitted, finding himself grinning like a fool again. He had a feeling that Felix was going to cause a lot of that. “I’ll text you later, then? Oh— can I hug you, is that okay?”

“That’s so _cute_ . You don’t need to ask.” Before Chan could comprehend this, Felix’s arms were around his waist, their bodies pressed together, the sweet scent of his cologne forever embedded in Chan’s memory. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any more perfect, Felix’s lips puckered against his cheek— _just_ for a quick second, long enough to make everything afterwards feel weird and dreamy and surreal. “ _That’s_ for cheering me up,” he teased quietly, breath tickling Chan’s cheek as they parted. “See you later!”

Minho was probably seething either way, so Chan let himself linger for a moment more, watching Felix’s back as he left before he headed inside to grovel for Minho's forgiveness and try not to look too happy about it.

 _See you later_ , that sounded like a promise.


End file.
